


You Give Yourself Away

by eternaleponine



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 20:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha has doubts about the direction a job is headed, and looks to Clint for reassurance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Give Yourself Away

"Agent Barton." Natasha tried to keep her voice from shaking, even though the rest of her was. It had been a long time since she'd felt this unsettled on a job, this out of control. She'd been trained for this from the time she was a little girl; she shouldn't be struggling now.

"Romanoff?"

"Yes. Get me Agent Barton." She felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice. She knew what had pushed her here – her shrink would be so proud of the self-awareness – and she knew that it was the only thing that could talk her down again. Who better to stand on a ledge with than a hawk?

"I'm sorry, Agent Romanoff, but that's not—"

"Then get me Director Fury," she snapped.

There was a pause on the other end, a silence so profound she wondered if the connection had been lost. "Just a moment."

Silence again, and then, "What's going on, Romanoff?"

"I want to talk to Agent Barton," she said. "They're not letting me." The words sounded petulant in her ears once she said them, and maybe she was being childish. She couldn't quite bring herself to care. Was it so wrong to want to talk to someone?

"Is this about the assignment?" Fury asked. His voice was gruff, but Natasha could hear beyond that to his concern.

"Yes. No." Natasha swallowed hard. "Is he there?"

"We need you to stay focused," Fury said. "How important is this?"

She knew that he was just doing his job, but it didn't stop her hackles from rising. "I'm _trying_ to stay focused. Is he there?"

Again, there was a pause, and she wondered what he was doing. Was he checking to see if Clint was there? He would know if the agent was on assignment... Or maybe he was trying to decide whether to give her what she asked for.

She didn't want to beg. She didn't want to let on how desperate she felt, how close to panicking she was. The calm she presented was a mask she wore. The unfeeling blankness was a façade. Sometimes – often, even – she was as collected as she seemed. It was unusual for her to be rattled like this, and the director should know that she wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Vital.

"Make it brief, Agent," Fury said. "The line is as secure as we can make it, but there are no guarantees." The line went quiet, and then clicked on again.

"Natasha?"

Tears flooded her eyes at the sound of his voice. She blinked them away. "Yeah."

"Is everything okay?"

She wanted to answer, but words wouldn't come. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the phone.

"What's going on?" Clink asked. "I need you to talk to me, Tasha. I can't help if I don't know what's going on."

He could help, actually, but she couldn't explain that just hearing him, knowing he was there, was already unraveling the knot of tension that had formed in her gut. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I want out of this mission," she said softly. "I want to ask to be pulled out."

She could practically hear him sifting through all of the possible responses, searching for the right one, or at least the best. There probably was no "right" here. "But you asked for me instead," he said.

She nodded, even though he couldn't hear it. "I know I need to get the assignment done. I just..." Another deep breath, in and out. She shouldn't be like this. She was a professional, and she was on a job. That should be all that she was thinking about, and feelings shouldn't enter into it, ever. But they had, and the man on the other end of the line was to blame. She should hate him for that.

But hating him was about as possible as a white picket fence and two-point-five kids or ever getting to use all (or any) of her vacation time.

"I feel like I'm a child again. Like I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm barely in control. I feel like I might have to give up... everything... to get what I need." She had no idea if he would know what she meant. They never really discussed it, and with S.H.I.E.L.D. she had managed to avoid having to get in that deep. Now things were going sideways and it felt more and more like the past might become the present. She could see no other option.

"Just breathe, Natasha," Clint said. "Breathe and think. You're not a child, and you can handle this. You'll think of something. You always do." His voice was low, calm, soothing. If a voice could wrap around a person and hold them, his would. She tried to push aside the sudden ache in her chest and do as he said.

But she had to ask. She had to know. Before him, it never would have mattered. Now, in this moment, it was all that did. "What if it's the only way?"

"Then you'll do the job, and come home, and I'll be waiting," Clint said. No hesitation. "Same as always."

She didn't make him promise. It would have been the sort of thing a child would do, and she had never been that child. Neither of them had. And he couldn't promise, because he could be sent on an assignment before she returned. But she wanted to. She wanted him to tell her that nothing would change. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk to Fury?"

"No. I'm all right."

"I'll see you soon, Tasha."

 _Not soon enough._ She hung up without saying anything. She knew Clint would understand.


End file.
